


He told me

by Salambo06



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Insecure Sherlock, Jealous John, Love Confession, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post S4, TFP never happened, Texting, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:57:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9793118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salambo06/pseuds/Salambo06
Summary: "It's Valentine's day, Sherlock and John are at Baker Street. Sherlock's phone buzzes with Irene's text alert and John goes all TLD again and says that for god's sake, it's Valentine's day and he should just reply. When Sherlock protests John takes up the phone to do it himself and sees that Irene & Sherlock have been texting about how Sherlock is in love with John and wants to tell him but don't know how."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> So this was inspired by a prompt I received on tumblr, and it ended up being 1500 words so I'm posting it here too!  
> I put an Explicit rating, but nothing happens in this part. I'm just putting it in case I write a second part, but I'm not certain yet. So just in case!
> 
> I hope you'll like this story,  
> Pauline.
> 
>  
> 
>    
> Thank you to [Heather](http://astudyinsnoggy.tumblr.com/) for her job as a beta !  
> [My Tumblr](http://ggaypilot.tumblr.com/)  
> 

John stares at his book, having stopped reading a while ago now, but needing an excuse to stay in his chair a little longer. He doesn’t want to head up to bed yet, it’s not that late and Sherlock has been quiet all day. John is hoping he’s going to play his violin tonight, maybe two or three pieces, if he’s lucky. It’s been awhile since he last played, and John misses it more than he had thought he would. 

But Sherlock is apparently still lost in his own thoughts, eyes closed and hands pressed against his mouth. His proper thinking pose, John thinks with a smile, and forces himself to look back at his book before Sherlock realises he’s staring. He moved back to 221B a few months ago, Rosie settling quite nicely to her new life, and strangely, so is Sherlock. John had feared it would not feel like  _ before _ , but then he’s not sure it could ever feel like  _ before _ . Not after all they’ve been through. 

But he’s back, Sherlock is taking cases again and they still order take away far too much.

It’s good. 

John waits another ten minutes, glancing up at Sherlock now and then, before letting out a deep sigh. He should head up and have a good night’s sleep. He sets his book down, rubbing a hand over his face and stands up. He looks down at Sherlock for a second, “Going to bed,” he says, not expecting an answer. “Good night.”

Sherlock remains still. John takes the first step towards the stairs. The ring tone echoes in the room for a long second. 

John’s entire body freezes. His eyes fall shut, his breath catching and his hands tightening into fists before he can even pretend to be in control.

It’s not good. 

It’s not good because he’s been back for a few months, and Rosie is settling quite nicely, and Sherlock is taking cases again, and they still order take away far too much, and John is desperately craving  _ more _ .

He hears Sherlock moving behind him and John turns around. He’s looking at his phone, not picking it up. John’s chest aches.

“You should reply,” he hears himself saying. 

Sherlock’s eyes find his, “I really should not.”

John takes a shaking breath, “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“And?” Sherlock asks, frowning and not looking away.

God, John wants to kiss him.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, a woman who clearly has feelings for you is texting you, the least you can do is reply.”

Sherlock’s frown depends, “Irene Adler doesn’t have fe-”

“For God’s sake, Sherlock,” John snaps, “Why is it so difficult to understand?! You could have it all, right there, with just one text!”

Sherlock stands up, stepping by him without another word, and walks to the kitchen. 

“Are you even listening to me?” John asks, a bit too harshly, but at this point he’s barely aware of what he’s saying.

“What is the point,” Sherlock replies calmly, “You don’t listen to me either.”

John lets out a nervous laugh and shakes his head, hands shaking. He can’t believe this, can’t understand why Sherlock would miss a chance like this. He deserves to be happy, deserves to fall in love, and now that he has the chance, he’s not doing a damn thing about it. 

“Fine,” John says, “Then I’ll do it.”

He moves before Sherlock can react, knowing he only has a few seconds. He unlocks Sherlock’s phone, opens the text and finds the name he’s looking for immediately.

 

**received / 11:32 pm**

_ Happy Valentine’s Day, Sherlock. Have you told him yet? _

 

John frowns, his eyes finding the previous texts on their own violation.

 

**received / 02:01 am**

_ And so much more to gain, Sherlock. Today is your day. Just think about it, will you. _

**sent / 01:59 am**

_ It’s been months since he moved back in. He would have made it clear by now. I can’t risk it, can’t risk all we have built. I have too much to lose. _

**received / 01:56 am**

_ I’m only saying you should take advantage of today to tell him, in your own way. _

**sent / 01:55 am**

_ Now you’re just mocking me.  _

**received / 01:53 am**

_ You’re the one who’s been asking me for advice. I’m giving you some, right here. Make him diner, flirt with him, seduce him, tell him you’ve been dying to be his for years.  _

**sent / 01:51 am**

_ I can’t tell him just because it is Valentine’s Day. _

**received / 01:50 am**

_ It’s far from stupid when you’ve been looking for a way to tell John how you feel for weeks. Seems to me like the perfect opportunity. _

**sent / 01:48 am**

_ The celebration of love. Stupid. _

**received / 01:46 am**

_ It’s Valentine’s Day, Sherlock. The celebration of love. I’m certain you can guess where I’m going with this.  _

**sent / 01:44 am**

_ What is that supposed to mean? _

**received / 01:43 am**

_ Today is your day, Sherlock. _

 

John stares and stares and stares some more. He’s not sure he’s breathing anymore, or thinking properly. For all he knows, time has stopped entirely.

“I told you we text sometimes,” Sherlock’s voice, much closer than John expected, and he inhales sharply.

His eyes are still locked on Sherlock’s phone, the hand holding it shaking, and it takes another second before he’s able to look up. Sherlock is looking at the phone too, but the moment he meets his eyes, John feels his entire chest tighten. The vulnerability, the bare fear, he sees in Sherlock’s eyes makes John want to pull him against his own body and not let go for hours on end. 

“Sherlock,” he breathes out, not certain what he’s trying to say exactly. There is so much he needs to tell him, so much he needs to make him understand.

“I thought about it all day, you know,” Sherlock says, his lips stretching into the saddest smile John has ever seen. “You’re a romantic, I could have found a way to use this whole Valentine’s Day business to tell you, but I-” He stops, sighing. “Never mind.”

Sherlock stretches out his hand, “Can I have my phone back, please.”

John’s fingers tighten around it, shaking his head as he starts to realise what is truly happening here, “No.”

Sherlock takes a step towards him, “John, please, don’t make it har-”

“Sherlock, look at me,” John cuts in, but Sherlock’s eyes are still on his phone. John lowers his arms, setting the phone on the chair and using his now free hand to take Sherlock’s still offered one. “Look at me.”

Sherlock’s focus is on their joined hands for a few seconds, and John waits patiently for him to finally look up. John finds himself smiling as their eyes meet again, and he pulls on Sherlock’s hand until they’re almost pressed together entirely. 

“Sherlock,” he says again, carefully placing his other hand on Sherlock’s hips. “I think there is something you should know about me.” He inhales deeply, feeling tears starting to form in his eyes and finding he does not care at all. Not with Sherlock’s own teary eyes staring back at him. “I have been in love with you for so long, I can’t remember what it feels like not to love you.”

Sherlock’s eyes flutter closed, the hand in John’s tightening and his entire body shivering, “John,” he breathes. “ _ John _ .”

John raises his hand from Sherlock’s hip to his cheek, wiping a tear away, and says softly, “I never thought you could feel the same, not after everything I did, not when you can have so much mo-”

“No,” Sherlock cuts in, opening his eyes and shaking his head. “It’s always been you, never anyone else. You.”

John lets out a shaky breath, wanting to both laugh and cry, and finding he’s doing one of those already, “It’s always been you too, Sherlock, since that first evening.”

Sherlock leans in, resting his forehead against John’s and raising one hand to his nape. John breathes him in, learning the exact feeling of Sherlock’s body so very close to his, and slowly lets their mouths brush together. Sherlock’s grip on his hand tightens even more and he presses back into the touch. A shiver runs down John’s spine as he pulls at Sherlock’s lower lip, tilting his head just enough to press them closer together.

“John,” Sherlock murmurs when they part, not moving away. “I love you.”

John smiles against his lips before kissing him again for very long minutes. 

“Can we...” Sherlock pants when they pull away again, both of them breathless. “Can we go to...”

John kisses him quickly, “Yes, let me take you to bed.” Sherlock’s breath catches, and John realises just how aroused he already is. “Just a second,” he smiles before pulling away and reaching for Sherlock’s phone again.

Sherlock attaches himself to his side, wrapping both arms around his waist but not saying anything as John starts to type. “There,” he declares after hitting  _ send _ . 

Sherlock smiles, leaning in for another kiss, and John takes his hand, leading them both toward Sherlock’s bedroom.

 

**sent / 11:51 pm**

_ He told me. _

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock holds on to John’s hand tightly all the way to his bedroom. He stares at his nape, at the few hairs there and realises he’s allowed to touch, allowed to know what they feel like against his fingers, against his lips. He only has to reach out, to pull John back against him and press his mouth to his skin, and he’ll  _ know _ . 

Sherlock’s eyes flutter closed for a second, breathing it all in. He tries to focus on the feeling of John’s hand in his, but it feels as if his entire brain is coming alive, as if his every nerve is on fire, sending shivers down his spine and building fire inside his chest. He needs it faster, craves more, and at the same time, wants John to take him apart so very,  _ very _ slowly.

“Sherlock?” John’s concerned voice asks, and Sherlock realises they’ve stopped in the middle of the kitchen.

He opens back up his eyes, staring at him and inhaling deeply, “I’m alright.”

John smiles, taking a step towards him and not letting go of his hand, “You’re allowed to have second thoughts, you know. We don’t have to go there yet.”

Sherlock shakes his head, “No, no. I want to.” He sighs, leaning forward until the can rest his forehead against John’s. “I truly do.”

“Then what is is?” John asks in a whisper.

Sherlock licks his lips, staring down at John’s and desperately wanting to kiss him. “I’ve thought about this so many times, John, but I have no idea what I’m doing.”

John tilts his head, brushing their mouths together softly, “I have no idea myself. I’ve been thinking about this too, you know, more than anyone should really. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m bloody scared of what is going to happen once we’re in your bed.”

Sherlock wants to tell him this is ridiculous, that he has no doubt he’s going to be a gentle, soft, caring lover and that he hasn’t trusted anyone like this before, but he finds himself unable to open his mouth. John doesn’t need to hear any of this, he realises as he watches the concerned lines around his eyes, but something else entirely.

“You won’t hurt me, John,” Sherlock whispers, feeling him tense at the words. “I know you’re scared you will, after what happened, after what we did to each other, but you’ve worked on it.” John pulls away, frowning at him. “I’ve noticed you’ve been seeing Ella again.”

John remains silent for a long moment, “You did?”

Sherlock nods, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but you weren’t talking about it so I wasn’t sure what to d-”

“Hey,” John smiles, raising one hand to cup his face and stroking his cheek slowly, “That’s alright. I’m not mad that you know. Just surprised you didn’t say anything, that’s all.”

Sherlock doesn’t reply, staring into John’s eyes and wondering if right now is a good time to kiss him again.

“I-” John begins but stops, sighing. “She’s been helping me with what I did to you, with my anger, with all the things I’ve kept to myself.”

Sherlock holds his breath. John smiles.

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s all fine. I mean it.” He kisses him softly, and Sherlock loses himself into the touch once more. “She says I’m doing better, and she’s been encouraging me to tell you how I’ve really felt for a quite a while now.”

Sherlock feels his own lips curl into a smile, “She did?”

John nods, the hand still cupping his face sliding to his nape, “She said it was the only thing keeping me from finally feeling at peace with myself.”

Sherlock closes his eyes, feeling John’s breath against his lips, “John.” Their lips brush again, not quite a kiss but Sherlock’s legs buckle. “But you’re right,” John continues in a murmur, “I’m still afraid I’m going to do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing and remind you just how much I can hurt you.”

Sherlock lets out a loud breath, circling John’s waist with one arm and squeezing his hand. “We both hurt each other. We’ve both healed. We’re both human, John, and if you allow it, I’d like to learn what it is like to truly  _ be _ together.”

“Yes,” John breathes, kissing him more firmly as he begins to walk backwards to the bedroom. Sherlock lets the feeling of John’s lips fill his head, trying to memorize the exact taste of John’s tongue against his, the exact movements that make him moan low in his throat, already getting addicted to the sound.

Sherlock isn’t sure how they manage to land on the bed, but when John pushes him onto his back slowly, settling between his legs and kissing him more deeply, Sherlock hopes he will never get used to the feeling. Sliding his fingers down John’s back, he pulls away from the kiss only to pant against John’s lips, the feeling of their erections pressed together suddenly overwhelming, “John, I…”

“Slowly,” John breathes, lips descending to his jaw and neck. “Yes.”

Sherlock closes his eyes, desperately trying to find the words to make John understand just how lucky he feels in this very moment, but there are lips sucking on his skin and Sherlock can barely hold back a moan, his fingers tightening around John’s shirt. He holds his breath, legs spreading wider when John begins to rock against him, “ _ John _ .”

John looks back at him, licking his lips, and Sherlock leans in for another kiss. He rocks back against him, finding courage in the unknown, and he smiles when John’s moan echoes in the room. They kiss for a long moment, simply rubbing against each other until Sherlock isn’t sure he can take it any longer, “Please,” he breathes against John’s lips, arching on the bed, “More.”

John’s hands are shaking as he begins to unbutton his shirt slowly, sliding it off Sherlock’s shoulders before taking care of his own. Sherlock can only stare, fingers stroking down his chest, from scar to hips, and John chuckles softly, “Ticklish.” Sherlock smiles, wanting nothing more but to kiss the sound, but suddenly there are John’s hands pushing his trousers down. “Still alright?” John asks, leaning in to kiss his shoulder, and Sherlock nods quickly.

“Yes,” he breathes, his own hands sliding down to John’s trousers before recapturing his mouth for another kiss. They continue to slowly undress each other until Sherlock can do nothing more but stare at John’s erection pressed against his own, something warm and bright exploding deep inside him. “John,” he cries out, head thrown back at the first thrust of John’s hips.

“Like this,” John whispers against his skin, “I want to feel you come like this.” Sherlock moans, feeling himself blush at John’s words, his pleasure building and building. “You’re so beautiful,” John continues, kissing every inch of his skin. “I love you, I love you.”

Sherlock shivers as the pressure of their joined bodies sends another wave of pleasure down his belly. He locks one leg around John’s waist, bringing them ever closer as the words that he had been too afraid to speak all these years finally spill out. John kisses him harder when he begins to shake, and Sherlock holds on tightly to him, coming between their stomachs and swallowing John’s own cry of pleasure as he comes too. It takes a long minute for Sherlock to realise just how quickly it all went, and he feels himself blush again.

“Sherlock, everything alright?” John asks immediately, kissing the corner of his mouth softly.

“I…” he begins, blushing again. “I’m sorry it was so… fast.”

John stares at him for a long second before laughing, “Well, I’m not. That was absolutely amazing, and I hope it was for you too.”

“Yes,” Sherlock says immediately, “Yes, more than I ever imagined, really.”

John smiles down at him, something warm, very warm on his face, and Sherlock feels himself relax again. “Oh,” he grins, “So you’ve thought about this.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes, a small laugh escaping him as he pulls John down for another kiss. It’s only the sound of his phone coming from the sitting room that brings them apart, the moan only serving to make the two of them laugh again, and John breathes against his lips, “We should send her a photo, don’t you think?”

Sherlock falls a bit more in love, just like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long, and I hope it was worth the wait :)  
> Thank you again for all the comments and kudos on this fic, I can't believe I finally managed to finish it!
> 
> Love,  
> Pauline.


End file.
